If in resurrection one enters a new level of existence, then Prince’s The Rainbow Children shows his ability to transcend his own musical genius. It’s a shame that this near-masterpiece comes at a time when hardly anyone is checking in. His most recent recordings were lackluster at best, praised only by diehard fans and wannabe Prince artists who still ride his jock–that is, his musical style. Though the latest will do little to reinstate him as the prince of pop, it is most likely his best since 1987’s Sign O’ the Times.
As in his earlier days, the former glyph goes solo, only enlisting assistance on drums and horns, and with Najee on sax and flute. And like those days, jamming alone allows him to show his peerless musicianship. The Rainbow Children expounds Prince’s musical breadth and wisdom, traversing myriad genres–funk, jazz, rock, gospel. His masterful interpretations of them all stretch pop’s often corny limitations and neatly package them into a continuous listening experience. Well, not very neatly. There are bumps and jolts, but Prince must hope the operatic theme supplies a sufficient bond.
No longer depending on sexuality as motif, Prince employs mysticism in a utopian vision of good vs. evil where all can come to live together as one. Clearly reclaiming his birth name and joining a new religion–Jehovah’s Witnesses–have unleashed alternative sources of inspiration. And though the biblical allegory is loaded with dogma and overzealous piety, this stuff makes up some of his most socially conscious lyrics to date. The preaching will put some listeners off, but those are the exact moments when the music best serves as metaphor. Screeching guitars, reverberating drums and fat jazzy horn solos fill out most of the tracks. On the James Brownesque "The Work, Pt. 1" Prince crafts a polyrhythmic overture as befitting his new metaphysics as it was Brown’s black-power sentiments. "Every time I watch the other people news/I c a false picture of myself, another one of u/They try 2 tell us what we want, what 2 believe/Didn’t that happen in the Garden/When somebody spoke 2 Eve?" Then again, "Muse 2 the Pharaoh," "Mellow" and "She Loves Me 4 Me" are soulful, laidback grooves proving Prince can still turn out a slow jam. It’s no wonder that neo-soul crooners like D’Angelo, Maxwell and Bilal have appropriated his falsetto shrill. Elsewhere there are hints of Jimi Hendrix, Sly Stone, Parliament Funkadelic–all expected–but even Miles Davis.
Any number of the tracks could be radio ready, though if heard outside the context of the overarching story they just might not make any sense to the listener. And anyway, Prince isn’t releasing singles–he wants Children to be experienced in its entirety. There goes any hope of gaining any new listeners. So within all this newfound spiritual hoopla there’s still a little self-indulgence. The trick for the listener is to not get bogged down in decoding Prince’s cryptic incantations, but let the music speak for itself.
